


Flowerboy55

by shocked_into_shame



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, First Time, M/M, Moz is called Steven, Smut, camboy, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shocked_into_shame/pseuds/shocked_into_shame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny stumbles upon a website that gives him all sorts of funny feelings in the pants. What's worse? It's cause he's watched his best friend get off on camera. Great.<br/>Set in 2014<br/>[Originally Posted on Tumblr]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowerboy55

**Author's Note:**

> this is so filthy. it's the dirtiest thing i've ever written  
> don't click the link in here okay  
> also, yes I do call Moz 'Steven' in this fic. What are you gonna do?

May 1 st , 2014

Johnny has realized that being in a band is difficult. Well, perhaps it isn't making the music itself that's hard. Johnny can write song after song and, with Steven's lyrics, Andy's bass, and Mike's drumming, they make some pretty damn good music. Getting recognized, though? That's proving to be more difficult than the 19 year old ever imagined. There are thousands and thousands of bands out there, posting their songs to the Internet and crossing their fingers. Sometimes, it makes Johnny feel like they will never reach the stardom he wants. But their first single is set to release May 13th, and it's wonderful, really. _Hand in Glove_ isn't like anything that's popular right now, but he doesn't mind, and, despite everything, he has high hopes. Plus, he has already amassed a small following online. 

Johnny runs a Tumblr for The Smiths (that's their name- it was Steven's idea, of course) and he's got about a thousand followers, which is impressive because the only things on the blog are videos of rehearsals and pictures of the band. Of course, people have taken a liking to Steven's looks, with his quiffed hair, bright blue eyes, and strangely vintage outfits. An equal amount of people have also expressed their dissatisfaction at Steven's insistence at being celibate. All in all, this blog gives Johnny a bit of hope; at least he knows that  _some_ people will listen to  _Hand in Glove_ when it comes out. 

Johnny takes a sip of his beer and logs onto Tumblr, pleased to see a tiny “1” in the corner of the envelope at the top of the screen. Hooray, a message! He clicks it and sees it's fan-mail from a blog he's never seen before.

_Thought you might wanna see this. So much for celibate, huh? Xx_

_<http://www.twinkcam.com/profile_id_3572>_

Johnny's eyes widen. Why the hell is someone sending him a link to something he can only guess is a dodgy porn site? And what is with the cryptic message? “So much for celibate”. What does that mean? Curiosity gets the better of him, and his hand shakes as he moves his mouse to hover over the link. Oh god, he's glad he has a Mac- he really does  _not_ need to deal with a virus. His heart is racing and he doesn't know why. It's not like he's never seen porn before, and he's in his apartment alone so he doesn't have to worry about being caught or anything. Still, though, something about this just feels wrong, and there's a twinge of dread in his stomach. The page loads quickly, and he furrows his eyebrows at what he finds. It's a link to a profile- a user called “flowerboy55”, with an icon of Oscar Wilde. This is getting  _really_ weird now.

The last video uploaded is called “A Request”. To Johnny's surprise, it says it was uploaded 1 year ago and it has 348 views. He clicks it, inwardly cringing at what he might find.

The video loads and what he finds has him gasping out loud, an automatic, violent response. Steven's face fills the screen; the singer is sitting cross-legged on his bed, smiling coyly at the camera and not wearing a shirt. Steven bites his lower lip before saying, huskily, “Hello, everyone.” Clearly, he's trying to be sexy, and Johnny is very surprised to find that his efforts are not going to waste, as the guitarist's dick is hardening slightly in his tight jeans.  _What the hell is this?_

“Someone left a comment on my last video. It says: 'You're hot, but fingers just aren't enough. Why don't you try a vibrator?'”

Johnny's brown eyes widen and he shakily pauses the video, trying to calm his heartbeat.  _Jesus Christ._ He's about to see Steven, his friend and band-mate, his  _celibate_ band-mate, use a vibrator? This is all kinds of wrong, for so many reasons. But Johnny is a curious, slightly horny boy and he can't resist the temptation. He clicks play again. 

Steven laughs and smiles. “So, I went out and bought this.” The blue eyed man holds up a bright blue dildo, bigger than Johnny had expected. With a flick of his thumb, Steven flips the thing on, and the fast hum of the vibrator has him blushing, looking all virginal. Holy shit. Steven shouldn't be allowed to look so innocent when he's holding a fucking  _sex toy._

Before Johnny can even process what's happening, Steven isn't wearing his underwear anymore, legs spread and erection hard, reaching up toward his belly button. Johnny's brain is short circuiting. Steven is moving to finger himself, slipping 2 fingers in, down to the knuckles. His head is tipped back, his cheeks are stained red, and he's whimpering as he stretches himself open. And Johnny can see  _everything_ , more than he ever expected to see of Steven. Johnny's right hand twitches, longing to reach down and press against his now-throbbing erection. He wants to resist. He does  _not_ want to jerk off to a video of his best friend fucking himself with a vibrator. That would be immoral and sick and just-

His hand shakily unzips his fly and reaches into his underwear, pulling out his dick and stroking it from base to tip.

Video-Steven is beginning to ease the vibrator in, throwing his head back and crying out as it enters him. Johnny's head spins. And when Steven turns the thing on?  _Oh God._

It vibrates loudly and Steven begins to scream, throwing his head back and are those tears? Is he  _crying?_ One hand holds onto the vibrator and the other is fisted in the sheets. Steven hasn't stopped shouting, his head tossing back and forth, eyes squeezed shut. Johnny moves his hand furiously, his breath escaping him in audible pants. Then Steven is crying out even  _louder_ , and he's cumming all over himself in thick ropes without touching his dick once. Johnny spills in his hand, moaning desperately, head spinning and vision turning white in the most intense orgasm he's ever experienced.

He's fucked, that much is for sure.

That night, he barely even sleeps, going through and watching  _every single video_ posted by “flowerboy55”. He cums so many times he collapses from exhaustion at about 7 AM, completely blacking out. He wakes up at 11 and hobbles out of bed, thighs sore and head spinning.

Yeah, he's definitely fucked.

Johnny keeps quiet about the profile for a week, going through the motions at rehearsal, watching Steven dance and sing in the corner of his eye. He gets hard all the time, now; there isn't a moment in Steven's presence when Johnny isn't throbbing and stiff. Luckily his guitar covers everything, but damned if the black-haired boy doesn't run home every night and bring up the “flowerboy55” profile, rewatching “A Request” for the hundredth time and furiously touching himself. It never stops, though. There is an ever-present need in Johnny, and he can't quite place exactly what he wants. He thinks that he wants to have sex with Steven. He really really  _really_ wants to have sex with Steven. 

Finally, exactly 8 days after he sees the profile, 5 days before  _Hand in Glove_ is going to be released on Soundcloud, Johnny slips Steven a note at the beginning of their rehearsal session. Johnny isn't sure what to write, because he doesn't want the quiffed man to know just how wrecked Johnny is with need. Eventually, the younger man settles on: 

_Come to my place at 7 tonight. I know all about flowerboy55. -JM_

Johnny doesn't see Steven read the note, but if his shaky vocals and lack of dancing are anything to go by, he's read it. Johnny stumbles on simple riffs, and _Pretty Girls Make Graves_ sounds worse than it has ever sounded. Steven forgets the lyrics in the third verse, and did he _really_ just sing “I could have been frild and I could have been wee”?

Mike suddenly stops drumming in the middle of _Handsome Devil_ and chucks a drumstick at Johnny, hitting him in the middle of the back. Steven stops singing and turns around, gasping. Andy keeps playing, immersed in the bass line.

“What the fuck is going on with you? We suck today. I'm going home.” Mike says, getting up and taking a sip of water.

“You can't just leave, Mike. We rented the room until 4.”

“Well, I'm not gonna bust my ass here if Steven is flat on every song and you fuck up every four seconds.” Johnny sighs and looks at the floor. “Listen, it's okay. Just take a break, calm down, fix whatever the hell is bugging you right now. I'm out.” Mike leaves, grabbing his coat on the way out.

Andy is still playing, and Johnny is about to say something when he realizes that Andy is cracking up as he plays without the rest of the band, obviously trying to lighten the mood. It works, and Johnny finds himself laughing in turn. Steven joins in nervously, twiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“I'm gonna... I'm gonna go too,” the singer announces shyly. He makes eye contact with Johnny and whispers, “I'll see you at 7,” before rushing out.

Andy stops playing and raises an eyebrow as he watches Steven exit. “I don't know what the hell is going on Johnny, but please just promise me you'll tell Steven you want to fuck him so we can get this all over with?”

Johnny's eyes widen and the color drains from his face.

“I'm your best friend, Johnny. I know when something is up. And, by the looks of it, something is _always_ up.” Johnny begins to stutter out a reply and Andy grins slyly.

“You shit-eater” is the response Johnny finally settles on, and he watches, stupefied, as Andy flips him off and leaves.

It is 7:05 when Johnny hears a tap at his door. The guitarist takes a deep breath and opens it, smiling awkwardly at Steven and inviting him in. The blue-eyed man is wearing a pink sweater and blue jeans, his hair perfectly styled and a slight flush on his cheeks. Johnny prepares himself for the worst.

But neither of them say anything as they gracelessly sit on Johnny's sofa, a thick, unpleasant silence permeating the air. Johnny sighs and decides to just break the silence by being blunt.

“Flowerboy55? Really? Couldn't you have thought of something a little more creative?” It's totally not what Johnny had intended to say, and, by the looks of it, isn't what Steven expected to hear.

“Um. Well, I like flowers, and James Dean died in 1955. I don't know.”

“I thought you were celibate.”

Steven looks down at his lap. “I am. I mean, I haven't posted anything in a year, since before I even knew you. And, anyways, even then, I wasn't doing anything with anyone. It was just...” Steven takes a deep breath. “It was just the videos. I was curious. It was thrilling. I can't explain.”

Johnny's heart flutters. He thinks about it, thinks about Steven still a virgin, getting off on the idea of people watching him. It's horrible, really, that Johnny is so turned on by all of this, considering how uncomfortable Steven is right now.

“I never intended for you to find this, Johnny. I completely forgot about the page, really. And if you watched any of the videos, I don't blame you if you think differently of me. I'm sorry.” Steven's blue eyes are turned down, hands folded tightly in his lap.

“You've got to delete it.” Steven nods in agreement. “We can't have anyone seeing that shit. You know, someone sent me the link through the Smiths' _Tumblr_ , Steven. That means anyone could find it. You've also got to delete it cause... well. I don't want anyone else but me to see you like that.”

Steven looks up now, meeting Johnny's eyes in shock. “I can't stop thinking about it. Spreading you open, sitting you down on my cock. I'd fuck you so hard you'd cry, cry more than you did when you used the vibrator. You'd beg for it, beg me to slam into you. And, in the end, you'd cum, but you wouldn't have touched your dick a single time, cause I'm holding your hands behind your back.” The words spill out of Johnny's mouth; he's powerless to stop them. And he thinks, at that point, that maybe he's gone too far. Here he is, coming on so strongly to his celibate _friend_. And, okay, making videos on his own is one thing, but is Steven really going to want to have sex with him? God, Johnny's fucked up, saying such a humiliating thing to his goddamn _friend_.

Steven's mouth parts open, a deep flush on his cheeks. Johnny's ready to flee, ready to get up and lock himself in his room for the rest of his life. But suddenly the singer's arms are wrapped tightly around Johnny's neck and he's whispering, “Please, Johnny. Please fuck me.” Johnny's getting up, carrying Steven, and they're kissing now, filthy open-mouthed kisses that are more teeth and tongue than lips. Johnny stumbles down his hallway, Steven's legs wrapped around his waist and mouth attached to his. He's dropping the quiffed man on his bed now, straddling him and furiously beginning to take off their clothes.

Suddenly, though, it occurs to Johnny that he is about to have sex with _Steven Morrissey._ He pulls away quickly, a move that has Steven whining low in the back of his throat. “Okay, okay. _Wait_. Before we do this. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Steven licks his bottom lips and replies, all shaky and innocent. “Yes, Johnny. I don't know how good I'll be. I've never done this with someone before. But I want you to be my first.”

“Really?”

“ _Really._ I, uh... I've liked you for a long time, Johnny. I've wanted to do this with you for a long time. Just never thought you'd want me back.”

Johnny's brain processes up to “a long time” and everything after that fuzzy, because he just wants to do this already. He leans forward and begins kissing Steven again. The older man is letting out small moans against Johnny's lips, and Johnny's hands trail down to Steven's waist, tugging down his jeans impatiently. They take off their clothes in a rush, and then Johnny is pressing against Steven, naked and insistent, erections rubbing against each other. It's amazing, really; Johnny could get off on just this, slow grinding and open-mouthed kisses. But the guitarist knows what else is in store for tonight, so he pulls away and reaches over to his bedside drawer, grabbing for a condom and lube. Steven pupils are blown wide so there is only a tiny sliver of blue visible, and Johnny's hands shake as he coats his fingers in lube.

He coaxes 1, 2, _3_ fingers into Steven's hole, searching for something he read about on the Internet once. He thinks he finds it when the man below him is crying out and grabbing at his wrist. “There, there, oh God, _Johnny,”._ Johnny had imagined what it would sound like to hear Steven whining his name, but the fantasy pales in comparison to reality. Johnny rolls them over so Steven's thighs are splayed, straddling Johnny's hips. He quickly rolls the condom on, slicking himself up with lube.

It's painfully obvious that Steven is nervous. His thighs are shaking and he's blushing furiously. Johnny moves a tender hand up to cup his face. “You sure about this? We don't have to do anything you don't want to.”

Steven doesn't respond, just grabs the base of Johnny's cock and presses it to his hole, slowly sitting down on it with a feral moan. Johnny's eyes nearly bulge out of his head, because Steven is so fucking _tight,_ feels more wonderful than anything Johnny has ever experienced. Steven is quivering, face pressed in Johnny's shoulder. Johnny mouths at the side of Steven's neck before whispering, “Move, baby.”

He doesn't know why he calls Steven “baby” in that moment. Really, it doesn't make any sense; Steven is older than him, definitely not a baby. But the term of endearment just slips out, continues to slip out as the quiffed man begins to bounce on his cock.

They go at it furiously, Johnny breaking out in sweat and Steven crying out with every thrust. True to his word, Johnny's trapped Steven's hands behind his back so he can't touch himself, and tears are beginning to escape from his blue eyes. Words pour out of Johnny's mouth, flying out in a rush. “You're such a little slut, sitting on my cock like this. I bet you love it, huh? Bet you wanna record it next time, so you can watch it over and over again, watch how my dick stretches you open. I bet you'd love that, huh?” Steven is sobbing now and rolling his hips harder, grinding down fast and rough. “Are you gonna cum, baby? Cum just from my cock?”

“Oh God, _yes_ , oh my God, _Johnny!”_ and Steven is cumming, crying out so loud that Johnny is forced to press his palm over the older man's mouth in fear of the neighbors hearing.

It's so amazing, Steven is so debauched and sexy and he's still fucking himself on Johnny's cock, desperately trying to make Johnny cum. It isn't long before the short man does cum, moaning and letting out a breathless, “Oh fuck.”

They tumble down together, heads falling against Johnny's pillows, limbs tangled and hearts pounding. Steven leans forward and presses an innocent kiss against Johnny's lips. “That was amazing.”

Johnny nods in agreement and tightly wraps his arms around Steven's thin frame. “Please tell me we can do that again. And again and again and again and again.”

 

 


End file.
